


Two Steps Forward

by Imperium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Chuck Shurley's A+ Parenting, Fluff, Gabriel (Supernatural) Needs a Hug, Good Big Brother Lucifer, Good Big Brother Michael, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt Michael (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer (Supernatural) Needs a Hug, M/M, Michael (Supernatural) Needs a Hug, Raphael (Supernatural) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 09:02:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18007916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperium/pseuds/Imperium
Summary: In the grand scheme of things, Gabriel figured that if he had to run into Michael in the middle of the night, sitting on the Winchesters kitchen counter, nursing a huge, violently yellow colored cup of what was undoubtedly coffee; he would have given in to his karmic vengeance, bowed down to his holy brother and let him chop his head off.In the grand scheme of things, it didn't really matter if he also wanted coffee badly enough.





	Two Steps Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omano/gifts).



> For Omano, an absolute angel - thank you for putting up with all my tantrums and whining. You are amazing and I adore you.

Michael was sitting on the Winchesters kitchen counter drinking coffee from a huge fluorescent yellow mug. Gabriel blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Michael was still there, sitting on the Winchesters kitchen counter drinking coffee from a huge fluorescent yellow mug.

Gabriel could almost hear his brand-new heart thump in his chest; if he were able, his hands would’ve gotten sweaty. He hadn’t yet gotten an opportunity to talk in private with his oldest brother, not since before he had snuck away from heaven, at least; and there had thus far been no inclination to remedy that, from either side. Which had been just fine by him. _Really._ He had no need for acknowledgement from any of the dickish paternal figures of his life. Be it Father or Michael.

Half turning, he glanced outside the doorway he had just walked through, and then, the coffee - pot only a tantalizing few feet away. Gabriel, contrary to popular assumption had _some_ self preservation instincts. Regardless of how useless they'd proven off late. He had no intention to cross the trigger happy celestial nuke of heaven. _No Sir._

He cautiously ran a hand through his hair. He had come here for some me-time, damn it, and he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with his broken mess of a brother. It was not his responsibility to pick up after Michael. In fact, those responsibilities ran in reverse, and Michael hadn’t come after Gabriel in a long while.

He looked again. Yep still there, posture casually regal, head held in a position that came from long practice of ensuring his crown didn’t fall off his head, unconsciously even when he wasn’t wearing it. It was Michael alright.

Gabriel slunk across the room silently, it did seem he had caught his brother in a rather quiet introspective moment, but Michael _was_ a soldier; there was just no telling with him. Sending a mental prayer, he carefully inched forward on his tip-toes feeling only slightly ridiculous.

“Gabriel,” Michael called out, and Gabriel couldn’t help but freeze on the spot. A lot of things had changed about his brother in the few centuries since he had last seen him, but not the resonant ring to his voice. The voice that had made everyone from the Morning Star to the tiny cherubs trail after him in starry eyed wonder. Gabriel had had his own ‘Commander’ voice, of course. But it had never quite been half as impressive.

He turned around slowly, giving Michael a fake-surprised look, placing a hand over his heart. “Dearest Brother! What a wonderful surprise!” He tried hopefully.

Michael raised his trademarked unimpressed eyebrow at him before jumping off the counter, somehow managing to not spill his coffee. He reached into a cabinet and grabbed an equally fluorescent mug and slid it towards Gabriel. This one was bright pink and said #RestEasy in flashing violet. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at his brother as he stood there looking at Gabriel expectantly.

Gabriel sighed in defeat. Trying to figure out what the hell went on in Michael’s head was a game no one could win. He took a breath to covertly look at his brother, and c’mon be honest - _to pick at his defenses_ and how had they come to this?

Michael was wearing an over large sweater, that Gabriel was pretty sure didn’t belong to him. His hair was messy, his feet were bare, and he didn’t seem to have a _single_ knife in him. Gabriel raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed, mostly baffled as he stared at his usually vigilant brother blankly. But Michael’s gaze was averted, a light flush at the high points of his cheeks, and he almost looked ready to deny that he was, for the lack of a better word, _chilling._

Gabriel could feel his lips curve upwards in a reluctant smile. It was rare, but Michael could be such a _child_ sometimes. Gabriel blamed it on Dad never being around when Michael had been an actual child, but was a thought that still hurt at times, and he was determined not to think of it.

“What are you doing up so late?” He asked instead.

Michael shrugged and moved past Gabriel to refill his empty mug. Gabriel didn’t cease staring at his brother until Michael sighed, and then, “Nightmares” he muttered under his breath.

Gabriel continued to maintain that the gift of sleep was the greatest gift their Father could’ve given his angels as an apology, but their Father seemed to be trying to give them straw hats in return for golden palaces. It was no surprise really, that none of the Angels were happy with Chuck. Gabriel would deny feeling smug about that for the rest of his eternal existence if he had to.

Surrendering to his fate, Gabriel grabbed his own mug and filled it with coffee from the pot, knowing not to add any extra sugar to it. Gabriel had practically inherited his sweet tooth from this brother of his. Conversely, Lucifer, had always been the mellow eater of the family - not too much spice or sweet. Gabriel had used to joke that that was the only mellow thing their beautiful brother ever did. Raphael, on the other hand, had never quite gotten the hang of eating, or maybe she had just not taken to food like her older brothers. She had far preferred smelling the flowers and herbs and would daintily screw up her divine nose when she saw their lips or hands colored with fruit juices.

Nevertheless, regardless of whether he liked it himself or not, Lucifer had always ensured that Michael got some of the best sweets available anywhere in the universe, and Michael had always shared them with Gabriel. Gabriel suddenly felt a deep pang of desperate longing for those days, the feeling of nostalgia for his three favorite siblings.

He plopped down on the counter next to where Michael had reclaimed his position, this time choosing to lean his back against the fridge and crossing his feet on the surface. Gabriel smiled yet again, it was so rare for Michael to let loose like this. He prodded Michael’s feet with his own, trying to incite a footsie.

His brother’s lips just curled into a casual smirk, while he kept his eyes closed.

Right, for the honor of playing footsie with the Prince belonged to the Morning Star and the Morning Star alone. Gabriel remembered meetings in heaven. Solemn events they were, where God issued commandments to his Archangels, and Michael who was always, always paying attention, forever patient and studious while under the table he silently played footsie with Lucifer the whole time. They played until either Father left the table, or one of them managed to trap the other, at which point Lucifer would inevitably start trying to make Michael fall off his chair, or at least lose his patented dignified expression. They had both been very, very good.

But Gabriel hadn’t spent the better part of the last few thousand years as a trickster for nothing and had his own tricks up his sleeve. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Mickey was gloriously out of practice either.

He casually picked Michael’s feet up and placed them on his lap, as though it was purely for the intention of sitting on the counter and pretended to nurse his coffee. He let the fingers of his left-hand trail silently down the jut of Michael’s ankle, where he knew from casual observation that he was very ticklish, a trick often used by the Morning Star.

His brother trembled slightly and tried to tuck his feet away, but Gabriel held on, no expression on his face. With a long-practiced poker face, he focused on his coffee with absolute dedication. Michael glanced at him, immediately wary, he knew Gabriel far too well to not be suspicious. But when Gabriel didn’t twitch a muscle for the longest time, Michael closed his eyes again, leaning his head back against the refrigerator, clearly dismissing it as an accident.

Gabriel smirked, tightened his grip with one hand, and placed the coffee cup at his side, lest it become a causality. What? Gabriel liked his coffee and was well aware of his brother’s disastrous rage thank you very much. He reached out with the other hand and just ran the tip of his fingers over the tender skin again, and again, and _again_. Michael’s golden eyes flung open in surprise, and then in obvious anger. He straightened up and tried to tug his feet back while Gabriel smirked in unrepentant glee. 

“Let go of me.” He growled out, eyes ablaze in affront.

Gabriel just threw his brother a cheeky look, running the heel of his hand over the soles of his feet now.

“The weather is so nice these days,” he said as Michael’s feet jerked and struggled in his hands in panic. “Do you think it’s because Father is back?” he asked innocently with a wide grin, pressing the tips of his fingers at a particularly sensitive spot.

“Gabriel!” Michael gasped, fingers scrabbling against the smooth granite, desperately trying to tear his feet out of Gabriel’s unrelenting grasp, trying and _failing_ to swallow back his laughter.

“It must be,” Gabriel continued “Or maybe it’s because Dad finally fixed this planet” he wondered out loud. God had offered all of them a gift, as a recompense, and obviously the ever righteous younger Winchester had demanded that Global Warming and pollution be cleansed off the face of the earth. Father had reluctantly agreed. It had made the headlines and was being proclaimed an ‘Act of God’. For once the press and the lawyers found something to agree on. Obviously, it had taken an actual ‘Act of God’ to make _that_ possible, but whatever.

Gabriel shrugged. “It’s probably the latter,”, he looked at Michael, who looked sufficiently panicked at this point, and cruelly flicked his wrist. His brother lost the fragile grip he had on the granite and toppled onto the floor in an ungainly tumble of limbs. Michael’s mouth was open in a perfect round ‘O’ of surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to be so cruelly usurped from his throne above. His Bambi eyes were so _wide_ in shock, that Gabriel burst out laughing, feet swinging merrily off the ground. Michael finally crumbled too, throwing his head back and laughing. Gabriel laughed and laughed and laughed. He hadn’t felt this free in years, this relaxed. The domestic bliss sinking into his bones like the warmth of a hearth in winter. He laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation, laughed at the crushing ache of the fact these little angels like Castiel who hadn’t even known them before the rebellion. Who’d never known just how _much_ angels were capable of love.

It was only when their laughter subsided that Gabriel realized that they had an audience. Placing a restraining palm on his brother’s foot, Gabriel turned around to look at their guest.

Raphael stood framed in the doorway, her eyes dancing in amusement, and Gabriel felt his lips curl in feline delight. _His little sister, his precious baby sister._ He felt Michael’s body relax next to his, and turned around to look at his brother, who still looked at Raphael like he couldn’t quite believe she was there.

“Losing her” Michael had said to their father, “was worse than anything else you have _ever_ put me through”. He had been trembling and vulnerable then, his torn fiery wings sagging limply to the ground. Gabriel had felt his own wings twisting in agony, even though they hadn't even been hurt. “The only way you can make it up to me for leaving me in that - that _place_ ," he had not even been able to get the words out right, and Gabriel's heart had crumbled for his proud brother. "bring her back. Bring her back, and I won’t speak a word about it any longer.” he had finished, somehow managing to retain some semblance of his famous serenity toward the end. Like the thought of Raphael itself had calmed him down. And Father had. For all his flaws, _Chuck_ seemed to be trying, Gabriel had to give him that much.

He shook his head getting rid of the thoughts, he wouldn’t ruin the mood by hashing out old wounds. Not when he had his siblings were having the first non-violent conversation in years.

Raphael meanwhile had glided into the room. She bent down and helped Michael to his feet, and with a flick of her wrist, cleared up the messed-up coffee stains over the floor, and the mug, broken when Michael had fallen.

Michael gave him a lofty look before prancing over to fill his now empty cup, filing one for Raphael as well, and both of Gabriel’s siblings joint him on the counter, Michael re-claiming his position by the refrigerator, while Raphael lent against the wall. Gabriel maintained sitting by the edge and swinging his legs.

There was silence for a while, and Gabriel enjoyed his coffee. He had almost lost this, he mused, as Lucifer had run a sword through his heart, that was one of the few things he had been thinking. Apart from the crushing gratefulness of having gotten Sam and Dean Winchester away, from the almost dizzy relief that it was _finally_ over.

Gabriel figured he shouldn’t have been so grateful to have died, but he had lost whatever was left of his will to live a long _long_ time ago. He had had his regrets of course, but then again, anyone who said they would die without any regrets were liars. He had made his choices and had died alone in a run-down motel room with only some artistically designed ashes burned to the ground for them.

He had lost his siblings to! Raphael dead, and that had hurt something fierce. He remembered her when she was first born, soft and tiny and delicate. Fumbling around and sewing them back together whenever they were hurt.

And Michael, well. Gabriel would rather his brother had died instead. Which was saying something, because Gabriel had _died_ , so Michael and Lucifer wouldn't have to.

The Winchester’s clock ticked a merry twelve gongs and broke him out of his reflection. It was actually midnight, and Gabriel relished in it, feeling a childish excitement in him. Because midnight was when the fledglings slept, _midnight_ had been just for the four of them alone. It reminded him of the good-old days, when it had just been the Archangels and Father. All of them wrapped around each other in bliss, and love and sheer dumb adoration.

“Do you remember? When it was just the four of us?” Raphael whispered softly, unconsciously following his train of thought. Michael nodded, a smile curved around his lips. 

He shifted cracking his eyes open, and Gabriel prepared himself for a classic Michael- story telling session. “I remember” He said, his voice equally low. “When you both were first born. Twins” Michael huffed out a laugh “Lucifer and I, we had never seen the kind before. You were wrapped around each other, We didn’t know which one of you had which colored wings. You were these tiny little balls of sunlight, wrapped up in so many colors..” He trailed off sighing wistfully. “We were so curious.” He continued, eyes distant, a painful look of longing spread all over his face. Gabriel and Raphael exchanged a look. This was the first time they had heard this story, also the first time Michael had mentioned the Morning Star’s name out loud.

“I couldn’t resist the temptation” A melodious voice joined Michael’s and Gabriel inhaled a sharp breath, feeling Raphael stiffening at his side, although Michael remained calm and relaxed. He glanced at the oldest out of the corner of his eye, worried about a potential breakdown. There was a reason Michael had gone crazy after all, and Lucifer was at the top of those list of reasons, Lucifer and what the two of them had possibly done with each other in the cage.

But Michael seemed determined to not have his mood ruined. Raphael cautiously slunk down at her older brother’s lead and Gabriel pretended that having Lucifer in the same room, didn’t creep the newly re-living daylights out of him. “When could you ever?” He asked Lucifer instead. He couldn’t resist the urge to snap back at Lucifer either.

So, they were sassy. It was a disease. Blame Pestilence.

Besides, if Raphael could stand to be in the same room as Castiel, with only a mildly furious look thrown in his general direction every fifteen minutes or so, Gabriel could stand to be around Lucifer for a little while, to ensure family peace and all that.

Lucifer ignored him, which Gabriel would admit was probably for the best. He fluttered his fingers gracefully through the air, like a pianist. “I poked you” he said, shaking his head in amusement of his own younger self.

“You, what?” Gabriel asked incredulously.

Michael laughed, throwing his head back, still deliriously on a sugar high. “He poked you, and you got so angry, you started making noises at him. We didn’t exactly have a proper language then, we mostly communicated through touch and art. You were the first to speak," Michael smirked turning around to look at Lucifer with a surprising amount of warmth in his eyes.

Morning Star walked over and lent on the refrigerator to Michael’s side, but remained standing. “Michael and I decided you were older then, and Dad gave you the job of talking to creation” He finished. 

Gabriel gaped at them both silently in shock, both his brothers looked innocent and earnest, before the corner of Lucifer’s mouth tilted just a little, and finally at long last they burst out laughing, leaving Gabriel spluttering in shock.

“That wasn’t funny!!” He cried out, while his dick-brothers continued to laugh, he reached out and grabbed Mike by his foot again, rolling him off the counter. Michael gasped out in between peals of laughter, and grabbed onto Lucifer for balance, who lost his grip on the refrigerator, as both of them went tumbling down to lie at Gabriel’s feet.

Gabriel laughed at them, and prepared himself for a gloat of epic proportions, before with a soft _whoosh_ , he joined his giggling brothers on the floor. Raphael laughed happily from above, being the only one left in a remotely dignified position. They curled into each other, like they were all tiny little archangels again, almost as though nothing at all had changed. The only difference was the substantive lack of feathers getting in everyone's faces. He settled down comfortably into their arms, even more cozy after Raphael joined them.

“So,” he began, “You were joking right? You guys used to talk before I was born and all?”

Michael hummed mysteriously with a wicked grin still on his lips. Lucifer had his head buried in Michael’s curls, but Gabriel could see his shoulders shaking. The dick was still laughing.

Gabriel harrumphed mentally. It hadn’t even been that funny.

He turned to Raphael. “Did you know about this?”

She shook her head, but her lips were jammed tightly together, her eyes shining in mirth.

“Are you lot serious about this or not?” he whined, sounding entirely too much like a fledgling again.

He moderated his voice with difficulty. “I’ve never seen a prank botched so terribly” he intoned using his favorite 'Do not panic, All is Well!' messenger voice. Michael and Lucifer were still smirking smugly. Clearly, his attempt at levity hadn’t worked on them. Idiots. Their smug looks were coupled with superior expressions, as though saying _‘You learnt this shit from us, bitch’_. Which Gabriel really couldn’t deny, as much as he’d liked to.

He threw his hands in the air dramatically. He would have stamped his foot if he hadn’t been horizontal on the ground. In the grand scheme of things, flailing one’s legs in the air didn’t give the same impact as flailing one’s arms. “And?” he questioned frustrated, giving up all notions of pretense.

The losers didn’t budge.

He gave them the next five point four seconds to yield to his superior intellect, before finally, “I’m telling Father” he snapped, standing up.

Michael and Lucifer were laughing again, and this time even Raphael had joined. Being the middle child sucked. Do not let anyone convince you otherwise.

But as Gabriel stalked off to hunt down their absentee Father to find out the truth, he couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips, with the mental image of Lucifer laughing into Michael’s hair, Michael shaking with helpless laughter, as he pointlessly tried to maintain his ‘responsible one' face, Raphael not even caring for other people for once, and laughing with abandon.

A deep sense of contentment settled in him.

Maybe it was finally over after all.

 

—

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been slowly killing me and editing it, is patience I'm afraid I no longer have. Thus, although it is a tragic mess I have decided to put it out there and have a clean break.
> 
> Kindly don't judge me too harshly for this. 
> 
> P.S. Seriously man, Fuck Punctuation.


End file.
